


Memories - Happy Birthday Brendon

by PagebyPaige



Series: Happy Birthday! [2]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: 4.12.17, Angst, April 12, Brendon is 30, Brendon is sad and alone, Fluff, Multi, but it gets better, mostly angst, what the heck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PagebyPaige/pseuds/PagebyPaige
Summary: Brendon Urie is 30 he's sad and alone on tour on his 30th birthday because he misses his friends.or Brendon gets the surprise of his fucking life after royally fucking up





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deadly_Sirius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadly_Sirius/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Brendon I hope you enjoy 30! 4.12.17
> 
> @CloseTheGoddamnDoorSWAT I tried my hand at writing Panic! did I do it justice?
> 
> Soundtrack:
> 
> Always  
> Memories  
> Impossible Year  
> The Good, The Bad, And The Dirty  
> Northern Downpour  
> Nearly Witches [Ever Since We Met...]  
> House Of Memories  
> Ready To Go [Get Me Out Of My Mind]  
> This Is Gospel  
> Trade Mistakes

How did he end up like this? Brendon is somehow alone and sad, moping in a dressing room on his 30th birthday mourning the loss of the friends he threw away.

Brendon finds himself lonely and unenergetic, completely unlike him. He doesn't feel like talking to even Sarah, or fooling with his dogs. Brendon looks through the 'House of Memories,' the display of "artifacts" from older years of Panic! He looks at his ridiculous hair, the crazy makeup, stage outfits and fond memories. As he moves through and finally reaches Death of a Bachelor. Here he is, headlining a tour by himself, basically the entire record credited to him.

Brendon goes back again, this time really taking time to remember.

Brendon remembers Fever, him and his high school best friends getting together in a space they could barely afford, no idea how they would get by. They had had the band together for three years already and were finally preparing to record. Brendon's family threw him out and that translated into stage makeup and 'fuck everyone I like drugs' type lyrics that were so artistic (courtesy of Ryan) that they somehow worked.

Brendon remembers Pretty. Odd., the messy Beatles album where they spent months in a cabin and most of them were pretty much constantly high. Meanwhile, Brendon and Ryan only got closer. They sang duets with intimate lyrics and Brendon thought they really had something going, maybe.

Brendon remembers Vices, and the god awful fight that caused it. Brendon pauses, unable to continue. Ryan. It's all he can think of. Brendon had done something proud and stupid and he lost Ryan. His Ryan. Brendon lets himself relive the fight that cost him the love of his life. 

Of course, it wasn't just one fight. It was fights every single night, ending in slamming doors at 3am. Even the people around them could feel the tension slowly building up by the day, until one day everything fractured. The fight wasn't anything major, just their average argument, but somehow it was different. Brendon and Ryan had reached their breaking points, and no matter what they did that night someone was going to explode. No one really excepted the end, though; everyone really just figured Brendon would trail Ryan like a dog forever. Clearly, that's not quite what happened. 

It was late at night and everyone else had gone to bed, not wanting to deal with Brendon and Ryan's petty shit. They were talking about the new record, and what they wanted to do. Ryan wanted to be a bigger part of the musical process: Ryan wanted to sing. When he said it, Brendon couldn't help but snort.

"Why the hell is this funny?"

"It's just fuckin' ironic, Ry. You, Ryan Ross, in the spotlight!" Ryan looked indignant.

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"I- nevermind."

"Spit it out, Bren!" Of course, the irony was obvious. Brendon had been trying for almost eight years to work around Ryan's stage fright, putting everything into his vocals to make anything possible, musically, for Ryan. Now Ryan wanted his chance in the spotlight. _So this is how it works, then?_ Brendon thought, _You just get to choose when you want to be in the spotlight and everyone else just works around you? Why, when we started and I wanted to be included in the lyrics I sang was I shut out, but now that Ryan Drama Queen Ross wants to be in the spotlight he gets it? The hypocrisy, Jesus._

"You're just a fucking hypocrite, okay? We only ever do things when _Ryan_ wants to do them. When I wanted to write lyrics, it was all, 'No, Brendon, what we have now is working' but now that you want the spotlight I'm just supposed to give it to you?"

"Yes, Brendon. I'm trying to get over my stage fright and sing in our band and I should be allowed to do that. Besides, not letting you in the artistic process was for the best."

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you can't write, Brendon!"

"Well maybe I can! You don't fucking know that, Ryan. I'll prove it."

"Go ahead and prove it, Brendon. But if this is how this is going to go, I'm going to find someone who doesn't turn important decisions into petty fights!" Ryan stormed out the door and Brendon, still fuming, mentally bid him good riddance. It wasn't until a few days later when he got the email that he realized: Ryan wasn't coming back. Brendon had just thrown away the love of his life over some comment Ryan probably didn't even mean. Still stubborn, Brendon was determined. He sat down that very day and began to write the beginnings of the next record, and the first thing he wrote about was Ryan Ross.

Brendon feels the tears on his cheeks and realizes he's barely even crying anymore. He doesn't know when he started, or when he slid to the floor. He picks himself up and moves on.

Brendon remembers Too Weird. He remembers getting a girlfriend and coming out almost simultaneously. Brendon remembers writing about girls. Brendon remembers writing about guys. Brendon remembers writing about Spencer. He sees himself again, slaving over lyrics powerful enough to show Spence what he needed to see. Hard as it was, when Brendon sees This Is Gospel framed on the wall, he thinks of Spencer now and knows it was worth it.

Brendon has once again reached Death of a Bachelor. Brendon thinks of Sarah, of his puppies, all his friends, all his fans, everything he has. He thinks about the fight with Dallon, nothing even major; it was just a little tiff, but now Dallon's not even an official member anymore. Brendon is alone.

He picks himself up and goes and finds an unoccupied room. He finds a comfortable looking, semi-clean couch and flops down on it face first. He curls up into the fetal position, nearly falling off the couch in the process. Brendon sinks into the couch and cries. Brendon is a mess.

When he calls Dallon, he doesn't care that he's in the other room. He calls him anyways, sniffling into the phone and apologizing for their fight, begging him to rejoin the band fully. Dallon just sighs and tells Brendon they'll discuss this later, and Brendon has too many things to do to worry too much.

When Brendon calls Spencer, he swallows back everything he planned on saying, and so all he tells the answering machine is that he hopes Spencer is doing well and that he'd love to see him soon. He hangs up before he cries again.

The last person on Brendon's spontaneous must-call list is Ryan. Brendon doesn't even know what to say, he just calls and sobs and mumbles something that might be 'I'm sorry' or 'I miss you' or 'please come back I fucked up and I love you.' Who knows. Brendon has almost convinced himself he's talking to a voicemail when he hears Ryan's too familiar voice on the other end. He bursts into a fresh round of tears.

"Brendon? Bren? Brendon, are you okay?" Brendon's heard Ryan's voice recently, but this is different. He sounds so old, so much more mature. Too mature to deal with a grown ass thirty year old crying on his birthday. Brendon almost hangs up when Ryan speaks again.

"Happy Birthday, Brendon. I've got a surprise for you, by the way." Brendon is astounded by how calm Ryan is. "That is, if you're up for it..."

"What is it?" Brendon is suddenly an overeager child.

"It's a surprise, Brendon. A surprise."

Brendon sighs and hears a knock at the door. "Hey Ry, I gotta go. I have soundcheck like, now, and a full set in an hour. Bye Ryan."

"I kn- bye Brendon," Ryan chirps and hangs up, leaving him headachy and confused.

Every song in Brendon's set is practically pointing fingers at him. Brendon plays This Is Gospel and can barely focus on the piano keys for the amount of glances he steals of the drum throne, it's drummer a shadow of his predecessor. Brendon plays Golden Days side by side with Kenny and he thinks of every memory he describes and all he sees is Ryan. Finally, playing House of Memories he stares at Dallon, a silent apology for everything he managed to fuck up to get him here, without even Dallon as a constant.

When Brendon walks back out for his encore, he knows what he's going to play. No one will expect it but it's so, so fitting. Brendon just misses his goddamn friends.

 _Oh memories, where'd you go?_  
You're all I've ever known.  
How I miss yesterday.  
How'd I let it fade away?  
Don't fade away!

Brendon's song, one not well known out of Vices, the album of his heart, is an apology to all those he hurt. _I'm sorry, Ryan,_ it says, _for driving you away. I'm sorry, Spencer, that I couldn't save you sooner. I'm sorry, Dallon, that I let a trivial fight rip the last link from my band. I'm sorry, Panic! at the Disco, that I am you now: a thirty-year-old man touring the world crying alone on his birthday. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I fucked up. I miss you._

As the lights dim, Brendon walks off the stage, ready to go back to his dressing room or the hotel or _wherever_ to lie back down and cry. When he gets back, though, he gets three simultaneous phone calls. He answers Spencer first, shaking from exhaustion and adrenaline.

"Yeah?" Brendon is too tired to deal with people, yet still a little euphoric to have Spencer calling me.

"Dallon just called me telling me you won't answer your phone, so please for the sake of us all answer him!"

"Oh, o-okay. Bye Spence."

"Catch ya later." Brendon shouldn't be this disappointed by Spencer's call, and yet he is. The fucker didn't even say happy birthday! Regardless, he picks up his phone again and dials Dallon, wondering what the hell could be so urgent.

"Brendon Boyd Urie get your ass back on this stage right fucking now!" is all Brendon hears before Dallon hangs up. Not wanting to make Dallon bother Spencer again, Brendon quickly complies, not having time to deal with the rest of his missed calls. He'll get to them later.

When Brendon finally gets himself back on stage, the arena is empty. Almost everyone has neatly filed out the doors, security on their heels. Brendon walks up to Dallon.

"So what the fuck was so damn urgent that you had to call Spencer Smith?" Brendon hears a snicker in the background; probably a tech guy snooping in their drama. Dallon now fumbles for words, not making a very convincing case.

"I, uh, well.... uh, I needed you to help me with........ something."

"Right, yes. _Something_. I'll get right on it." Brendon isn't in the mood for games tonight. This time, the snickering is a certain little giggle, and Brendon does a double take. Tech guys don't laugh like Ryan Ross. Brendon faces out into the crowd, trying to determine where the sound came from. He looks down and ends up locking eyes with the one and only Ryan Ross, seated next to Spencer Smith.

"Happy Birthday!" Dallon's voice is behind him and it's filled with barely veiled excitement. Ryan and Spencer grin at him from the front row and he gestures for them to mount the stage, still unsure how to react.

"You knew about this?" Brendon finally decides to ask Terrible Actor Dallon.

"It's possible..."

"Oh for fucks _sake_." Ryan. Dramatic as always. "It's Brendon Urie is 30, damnit, and I dragged our asses -he gestures to Spencer and himself- out to Vegas to tell you happy birthday and Dallon can't even speak English! This isn't the friends I know."

Brendon doesn't even think now, he just loses it. He gives in, wrapping Ryan in a bear hug. Spencer soon joins, smothering them both, and Dallon adds himself on, his head sticking up above everyone else's. Brendon smiles genuinely for the first time in a very long time inside the friend-pile. Things are shaping up to be pretty damn okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment! Please!


End file.
